


A Comedy of Errors

by LastWill



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Romance, Sex, Time Travel, you will laugh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:04:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastWill/pseuds/LastWill
Summary: All who played the Game of Thrones lived or died in Westeros, all discovered it mattered very little except to mark them as one people under the Governance.In an act of rebellion against their new bosses, Jaime organizes a beach party in King’s Landing during work hours to ‘get back at the man’.Ser Jorah and Daenerys struggle to find privacy for their big romantic moment among nosey partiers.Tyrion and Sandor Clegane suspect Tywin isn’t being entirely honest about his intentions for joining the party.Bronn just wants to drink and enjoy women.A/U: It’s a science-fiction/romantic-semi-serious comedy and it’s set after the GOT show has ended. There is no fic like it.





	A Comedy of Errors

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC HAS LAST SEASON OF GOT SPOILERS. There, you’ve been warned.
> 
> So..this is an odd fic, but understand it’s a story from my drive, which means I wrote it to indulge myself rather than pleasing an audience. What I’m trying to say is: I don’t mind if it comes off a little stupid because it’s fun to read, I’m assuming you all will get that. Also, at it’s core, it’s a comedy. Alright, with that out of the way, 
> 
> ***I LOVE this fic. It is my guilty pleasure.***
> 
> IMPORTANT CONTEXT: Obviously I don’t need to give myself context, but I feel like I do for you, dear reader. This fic is unique in two ways: first, this isn’t a take on “modern day GOT” because I haven’t set it in “modern day”. The GOT characters are actually set in some sort of “sci-fi-future”. There’s time travel, space exploration, robots, powerful foreign planetary governments and armies, etc. in this universe. The GOT characters all work on a station for a government called “The Governance”, and like so many people, they hate their boss/government.
> 
> Second, the Game of Thrones characters have lived their Canon-ish GOT lives (more-or-less) and they’ve woken up some time ago from that and into a future where they are now living their “second life”. They’re not ghosts or supernatural, they’re flesh-and-blood again.
> 
> If you find this confusing or weird don’t worry too much about it, you’ll get it. There’s a fair amount of exposition in this fic, so I don’t think you’ll get too lost. When in doubt open your mind and roll with it.
> 
> Also, it’s pretty Cersei/Jaime heavy in the beginning but it does fan out.

* * *

“My god, it’s more depressing than I remembered,” Cersei scoffed at Jaime. 

A long time ago she had considered King’s Landing to be the height of decadence with it’s clean stone rooms, red and gold tapestries and servants bustling to please her, but now all she could see was how isolated the place was from a horrid, stinking city half-drowning in shit and misery.

Jaime had chosen this time in Westeros for them to arrive, she didn’t know the exact time, but it after Robert Baratheon had died as well as the noble Ned Stark, and she assumed Joffrey was now ruling as king.

Jaime and she had arrived in what had been her old bedroom. It had more of a feeling of a prison than a palace with none of the luxuries she had grown accustomed to such as climate control, for a start.

“Remind me why you chose Westeros?” Cersei said, surveying the room.

“Father won’t think to look for us here,” Jaime replied, sounding put-out by her displeasure. “Do you want a holiday or not?” 

“I do, but I want to be comfortable,” she said. “And of course Father won’t think to find us here, King’s Landing is full of bad memories for every one of us.”

“It’s just a place, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that it's going to be a hot, sunny day and a perfectly cool night,” Jaime said. “I spent all week planning this down the smallest detail, it’s going to be perfect- we’ll have drinks, music and food in the Palace Gardens, the beach will be open to enjoy. I’ve arranged transport for-”

“-I hate parties,” she interrupted him. “Why couldn’t you have planned something for just us?”

“Are you determined to be unhappy?” he snapped, finally losing patience with her. “Because if you’re not going to allow yourself to enjoy the day I planned, just say the word and we can forget the whole thing. I can tell Father the computer got a bug and we got waylaid. Hey, let's go back to work for another six months without a day off in sight, what do you think?”

“I’m just saying,” she relented. “I wish we could have had a day alone instead of inviting our ghastly colleagues to get drunk and drown in the sea during some god-forsaken year in the past.”

He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to his body. 

“Maybe I wanted an opportunity to show you off,” he purred in her ear.

“You’ve certainly made sure of that, that bikini you picked out barely fits,” she said, smirking as he kissed her neck.

“No need for concern, it covers your... assets,” he said playfully. She moaned as his hands roamed over her and he squeezed one of her asscheeks. 

The sound of air being sliced and a pulse of electricity snapped. Cersei was familiar with the sound of raw transporting- she was sure they had been followed, no one would come to King’s Landing otherwise. 

Sure enough the humanoid robot, R-26, stood before them as still as a piece of the furniture. He was mostly chrome except for the yellow accents on his fingertips, eye-sockets and waist. It was nearly half a foot taller than Jaime, and it loomed over both Lannisters.

“I suppose today could have been a treat,” Cersei said bitterly. “I hope you have a good story to tell Father why we’re here.”

“No need, I brought R-26 here, he’ll be setting up the party,” Jaime explained.

“You brought Ty-bot here on purpose?” Cersei said.

“ _My name is not Ty-bot_ -” R-26 started in his mechanical drawl.

“-Of course I did, he’ll be bartending,” Jaime said. She turned to him with an incredulous frown. “What? No one wants to work while everybody’s having fun, and I’m certainly not going to be the one making drinks for our _ghastly colleagues_.” 

“I didn’t think you were this stupid,” she huffed, pulling out of his arms. “It’s in Ty-bot’s programming to report anything out of protocall to Father. It’s probably calling him right now.”

“ _I am not an informant for Tywin Lannister. My identification is R-26, not ‘Ty-bot’_ ,” the robot replied, it’s mechanized voice flat.

“Have a little more faith in me,” Jaime said, “I told you I had everything planned out. I removed all Father’s little spy-programs, it’s not going to call him, it’s programmed to make all today’s preparations and then make drinks.”

“You had better have done it right, you just sold me on this holiday,” she raged as she shot R-26 a dirty look.

The robot tilted its head. She supposed that someone had thought the hunk of metal before her would put people at ease if it simulated human gestures, but all it did was unnerve her. She supposed that’s why her Father was so attached to it, like him it made her uncomfortable.

“R-26, get to work,” Jaime ordered it. 

The sound of the transporter crackled again, and totes full of alcohol and mixers appeared behind them. Coincidentally it coincided with the sound of the bedroom door opening, Jaime was already snaking his arms around Cersei when they were interrupted again by another bystander.

The Lady Cersei had entered her room and was frozen in mid-step, though it was early morning she was carrying a full wine goblet.

“Ugh, I had such great hair,” Cersei sighed, looking upon her past-self in envy. “It took me years to get it that length, I can never get it past my shoulders without giving into the urge to cut it.”

The Lady Cersei of Westeros began to tremble, not only tremble but lose her physical presence as she stumbled backward against the wall. Both Jaime and Cersei traded concerned looks as her goblet clanged on the stone floor spilling wine spilling at her feet.

“Can she see us?” Cersei marveled at Jaime.

“R-26, is your stealth program malfunctioning?” Jaime asked it.

“ _It has not malfunctioned, it is disabled_ ,” R-26 informed them.

“Perfect,” Cersei snapped at Jaime. “What else did you disable?”

“Am I going crazy…?” Lady Cersei gasped, her voice as thin with fear.

“No...well, perhaps,” Cersei said to her, her expression full of pity.

“What is this sorcery?” Lady Cersei said, inching towards the door. “Are you here to kill me? Am I dead?”

“Ty-bot, erase her memory before she has a conniption, will you?” Jaime snapped.

“Belay that order,” Cersei said to R-26. She held out her hand to Lady Cersei who looked at her in wonder.

“What are you doing?” Jaime asked Cersei. He was confused by the gesture.

“Don’t be frightened,” Cersei said to the trembling woman. “It’s really us, and we’re the last people who would never harm you.”

“...No,” Lady Cersei said, looking at the robot, Jaime, and finally Cersei’s outstretched hand.

“She doesn’t trust us, we scare her to death, now come on,” Jaime sighed. “She just needs a mind wipe and we’ll send her on her merry way.”

“I remember what I needed, Jaime, and it wasn’t a memory wipe,” Cersei snapped at him. “And she’s not just scared, she’s in pain. This was when you weren’t around and you left me in this horrible place.”

“You mean when I was captured?” Jaime said, searching his memory. “While I was getting _this_ and sitting in my own shit for a year?” He said, holding up his mechanical hand.

“Yes, it was hard for you, but it was hard for me too,” Cersei said. She turned to Lady Cersei with kind eyes. “ I remember wanting to sleep but never resting, wanting to eat but never being able to stomach anything, wanting to love you, Jaime, but never able to kill my anger for you… even if she won’t remember it, give her one day of respite, of fun, of happiness. Let her join us.”

“...I don’t know,” Jaime said, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s against the rules.”

“Please, as if you ever cared about rules,” Cersei said.

Something Cersei said must have struck true in the terrified Lady Cersei’s mind, because the woman finally began to relax as she looked between the three of them. She closed her eyes for a moment before composing herself and straightening, her head held high. 

“Come with us...we're going to give the best day of your life,” Cersei promised her.

The Lady Cersei crossed the room and took Cersei’s hands, her eyes intense. Jaime thought it was very brave or very rash- indeed they all were being entirely too reckless in his opinion, but he knew better than to attempt to convince Cersei out of anything she wanted.

“Where are we going?” Lady Cersei whispered, holding Cersei’s hands.

“...Oh,” Cersei said, looking at Jaime. “Well, just the Palace Gardens and the shore... but we’ve got wonderful things to show you.”

Lady Cersei didn’t hide her disappointment as she looked at the pair of them and dropped her hands out of Cersei’s.

“We’re staying in King’s Landing?” Lady Cersei said, nonplussed. 

“...Ty-bot, make this woman a mojito,” Cersei ordered, her ego taking a visual shot.

“ _Right away, ma’am_ ,” The robot said, turning the totes.

* * *

“This is too bizarre,” Jaime said, stepping to Cersei’s side. “If we’re going to wipe her memory after today why are we even taking the risk?”

“Because I need it, she needs it,” Cersei replied. “Just indulge me.” 

The Lady Cersei had followed them to the Palace Gardens and down to the shoreline; she had many questions, most that both Cersei and Jaime refused to answer, but after putting a mijito in Lady’s Cersei’s hands the questions began to die down. 

At the moment Lady Cersei seemed fascinated by R-26 who was setting up a changing tent on the dunes while she became progressively drunker.

“She’s furious with me, you know,” Jaime said. “Shooting me dirty looks, ignoring my smiles...that’s _not_ fun for me.”

“I’ll fix it, it won’t be a problem,” Cersei promised him. She kissed his lips to sweeten his mood, which he predictably returned in ernest.

“ _The changing structure is erected,_ ” R-26 claimed, approaching Jaime.

“Go set up the bar,” Jaime ordered. He smiled at Lady Cersei who had stood close to him. “Enjoying that?” he asked, nodding to her mojito. “I can have Ty-bot make you another if you please.”

Just as Jaime had claimed she snubbed him by not replying, instead she traveled to Cersei’s side. He shot Cersei a meaningful look and he nodded before waving him away.

“Listen, my love,” Cersei said, pulling their guest aside.“Today you’ll see many things you won’t understand, but Jaime and I can’t spend the day answering questions, we’re here to relax and enjoy ourselves just as much as you.”

“...I understand,” Lady Cersei said.

“And one more thing, I know I’m asking a lot, but please forgive Jaime,” Cersei pleaded. “If not your Jaime then this one... you know how much we love him. He’ll take good care of you today, and he’s trying everything he can to prove he loves you.”

Lady Cersei took a long sip of her drink and nodding solemnly. 

“Good, now change into this,” Cersei handed Lady Cersei a red bikini and a pair of sunglasses; she could tell Lady Cersei was holding back a question as her gaze lingered on it. “Be rid of the King’s Landing of yesterday.”

* * *

It was ten minutes until everyone was scheduled to arrive. 

Jaime took this time to relax, he had made sure to set himself up with a large beach chair, it was made really for two people (or one very wide adult) but the three of them managed to squeeze tightly together in a mess of arms and legs, both Cersei’s were lounging on either side of him as he was in the middle. 

None of the spoke. It was peaceful, and it had been a long time since they had felt so satisfied.

Naturally it couldn’t go on very long. A high pitched beep erupted from Jaime’s swim trunks which caused both Cersei’s to grip him tightly in alarm. He wiggled and managed to pull out his noisy transmitter.

“Damn,” Jaime cursed as he studied it. “It’s Father.”

Lady Cersei was looking at Jaime’s transmitter in alarm.

“Don’t answer it,” Cersei said.

“If I don’t he’ll know something’s off,” Jaime replied. He sat up and took a deep breath.

"Projection: The Hollows, port 526," Jaime said. He then positioned his transmitter to show only him and cut out his sisters.

“Hello Father,” Jaime greeted him.

"Jaime," Tywin said stiffly. "You must think yourself very clever."

"I’m sorry?" Jaime replied in a confused drawl.

“Turn that off. Do you think I don't know a simulation when I see one? You’re not in The Hollows, you’re in-" Jaime's stomach twisted when Tywin looked at something off screen, "King’s Landing, 300 AC.”

Jaime dropped the simulated background and collapsed back into his beach chair with an edge of defeat.

“Now, why are you there, and why did you steal my robot,” Tywin continued sternly.

“It’s not your robot, it’s owned by the Governance,” Jaime replied tiredly.

“It was entrusted to me by the Governance for mission work only,” Tywin said pointedly. “And what are you using it for, hm?”

Jaime turned his head to see the robot spreading little paper umbrellas neatly in a cup to prepare for cocktails.

“Something frivolous,” Tywin guessed correctly.

Jaime sighed as his father looked down at him in mounting disapproval.

“I just borrowed it for the day to help us with the party. We’ve been working hard for months, we deserve a holiday,” Jaime said firmly.

“What you deserve is a court martial,” Tywin stated. “I don’t want to hear any more foolishness about a party, pack everything up- you, your sister and _my_ robot will return to the station immediately to face the consequences of trying to deceive me.”

“Ty-bot just got everything together,” Jaime said quietly.

“...‘Ty-bot’?” Tywin repeated, his eyebrows raised. 

“R-26,” Jaime clarified, waving a dismissive hand. “Listen, Father, we’re not the only ones playing hooky today. Half the damn station is due to arrive in mere minutes and I intend to enjoy my day at the beach with them. So go ahead and call security, but know whoever you send down here was most likely planning on staying well before you told them to retrieve us.”

“You really have outdone yourself this time, Jaime,” Tywin grumbled. “How many of our people did you drag into this pathetic act of rebellion?”

“More than enough to not to worry about being dragged away to the brig. Pretty much everyone but you was invited,” Jaime replied. Tywin bristled at the news. “Don’t be upset, consider this your formal invitation,” Jaime sighed. “Join us, I know you miss King’s Landing, and we both know there’s nothing happening on the station today.”

He thought his father was going to rip into him more, but instead of suffering under his father’s threats things took a different turn, Tywin seemed strangely calm.

“Alright,” Tywin said simply.

“Alright?” Jaime repeated, suddenly uncomfortable. 

“I’ll join you,” Tywin informed him.

“You will?” Jaime said. His father nodded. “You’re coming here?”

“That’s just what I said, yes,” Tywin replied. 

“Right...see you soon,” Jaime said.

The transmission ended and Jaime continued to stare at his transmitter in astonishment.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, I know you tried,” Cersei said, patting his arm gently. “I suppose we have an hour of sun before being thrown in the brig.”

“No...it’s alright, Father’s taking the day off with us,” Jaime said, scarcely able to believe it.

“Don’t be naive, he only said that to keep you here,” Cersei said. “He’s going to come down here with a security team and wipe us all out.”

* * *

Tywin surprised them all when he arrived on the beach with the first wave of ‘rebels’ cutting work. Not only did he show up, but he showed ready for the day in swim trunks, a white shirt, flip-flops and a book, and no security team in sight.

Tywin looked down at them, although he was wearing sunglasses it didn't hinder the look of utter disdain at finding his children curled up with each other.

“Don’t panic, Father already knows,” Cersei mumbled to the Lady Cersei as she awkwardly shifted next to Jaime, her arm covering her cleavage.

“Is one humiliation not enough for you now?” Tywin scowled at Jaime, looking down at his daughters. “You have to corrupt your sister everywhere you go?”

“You’re going to start this again after I went through all the trouble of getting you the nicest chair?” Jaime said, ignoring his Father’s barb.

Tywin turned to look at Jaime's claim. It was a clear bribe, a long beach chair was fashioned with a large, fluffy, beach towel covering it, like Jaime's, the chair was big enough that a man could stretch fully. A small table was perched near it and a Tennessee whiskey was in a sweating glass.

Tywin picked up the table and dragged it under an umbrella several yards away, then he returned to grab the chair by the arm and pulled it to the table.

“He knows but he hasn’t quite come to terms with it,” Cersei explained further to Lady Cersei.

“Putting it mildly,” Jaime mumbled. “Tyrion is shaping up to be his favorite, that’s how tense things have been between us.”

“That's actually quite frightening,” Lady Cersei replied.

“Speaking of,” Jaime remarked.

“Oh look,” Tyrion proclaimed coming upon them with a fake smile. “Father’s here!” he announced as Tywin scowled at him. Tyrion then turned to Jaime with a stiff smile, “Why is Father here?” he called out pleasantly through clenched teeth.

“He’s decided to go on holiday instead of rounding us all up for daring to take a day off,” Jaime remarked dryly. “Isn’t that nice of him?”

“Too nice,” Tyrion said, turning to Tywin suspiciously. “Were all the prison cells at the station full?”

“Tyrion, I haven’t the energy for your nonsense today, like everyone else I’ve taken the day off,” Tywin informed him. “If you don’t need me for anything vital, and I mean something _I_ deem vital, then don’t disturb me.”

Tyrion’s gaze lingered on his father as Tywin continued to lay under the umbrella, the breeze blowing over them as he ignored the world to sleep.

“Hm,” Lady Cersei hummed. She had pulled down her sunglasses to look Tyrion over.

“Yes?” Tyrion asked, noting her odd reaction.

“You’re still a dwarf,” Lady Cersei said. She adjusted the sunglasses back on her face and wiggled in her chair. “I don’t know what I expected...something different I suppose. I thought with all this magic you’d try to get that corrected,” she slurred her words slightly.

Tyrion pressed his lips together tightly and waddled towards the three of them, squinting in thought.

“Your triplet is taking our sudden invasion quite well,” Tyrion remarked to Cersei.

“Of course she is, she’s me,” Cersei said. She reached across Jaime's stomach and grabbed Lady Cersei’s hand, squeezing it.

“And I’m sure it helps that she’s blitzed out of her mind,” Tyrion said, noting Lady Cersei’s lopsided smirk.

“She’s had two of Ty-bot’s mojitos on an empty stomach,” Cersei snapped at him. “It’s not her fault she can’t hold her liquor, you remember the watery dreck they used to serve us here?” 

“Only too well,” Tyrion replied. “There’s no need to be defensive, dear sister, I too plan on becoming so inebriated that I start seeing my double. I’m only surprised Father hasn’t disbanded this little jamboree, it _is_ against the rules,” his voice rising as he looked over his shoulder at Tywin.

“Doesn’t he ever stop trying to ruin everything?” Lady Cersei snapped. 

“No,” Cersei replied. “You’re annoying us both,” Cersei accused Tyrion. “Why don’t you find some half-naked hussy who can appreciate your stupid jokes?”

“Not a bad idea,” Tyrion replied. His eyes combed the beach and settled on a group of young women playing in the surf, then snapped to a couple going farther into the sea. “Wow, you even invited Mormont and the Khaleesi?”

“I invited everyone,” Jaime admitted while Cersei groaned.

“Just what this party needs, a horny old man shoving his tongue down that condescending bitch’s throat every three minutes,” Cersei sniped.

“Gross,” Jaime piped up.

“Yes, their relationship is quite unorthodox,” Tyrion said sarcastically, looking at his siblings with a mocking smile. Jaime took the comment in stride but both Cerseis tensed.

“Weren’t you leaving?” Lady Cersei snapped at him.

“Indeed I was,” Tyrion said. A bought of laughter rang from the group of women nearby and Tyrion looked at them wistfully. “I believe that’s my cue.”

“Did you really have to invite _everyone_?” Cersei asked Jaime. She was thankful that Tyrion was finally walking away.

“Enough people had to show up that we wouldn’t get singled out for punishment,” Jaime said. “And it worked, even Father was swayed by my genius plan.”

“You could have risked leaving Mormont and the Targaryens off the list,” Cersei complained.

“They’re not so bad,” Jaime said. He lifted his sunglasses to peer at them in the ocean. “Oh my god- they’re having sex!”

“Who?” Lady Cersei asked.

“Mormont and the Khaleesi,” Jaime burst out. “Right in front of us, look!”

“You’ll forgive us if we don’t,” Cersei said drowsily.

“Are they really so desperate for each other?” Lady Cersei asked.

“Desperation is precisely what it is,” Cersei sneered. “Ser Jorah reeks of desperation for his little dragon-brat, and she’s more than happy to let him treat her like a goddess... it’s a miracle there isn’t a thousand little Mormonts scuttling around the station like vermin.”

“This is ridiculous, I won’t be able to swim knowing Mormont’s spunk is polluting the water,” Jaime huffed.

“I’m sure her cunt will catch most of it,” Lady Cersei said, goading him to lay back down.

“We see you!” he bellowed to them. “YES, WE CAN SEE-”

“-Alright, Jaime, they know,” Cersei said. 

In a collaborated effort both Cerseis grabbed Jaime’s biceps and dragged him down. He didn’t struggle very hard against them before succumbing to their embrace.

* * *

“Was he yelling at us?” Deanerys asked.

“No, my Khaleesi,” Ser Jorah grunted, pushing into her. “May I say, you’re as beautiful as a summer day,” he said thickly. “And you feel just as good.”

“Drop us lower in the water,” Daenerys ordered as he showered her with kisses.

“You worry needlessly,” he said kissing her. “The surf is covering us, we’re too far out for them to see anything,” Ser Jorah explained quickly, but he did obey her wishes and dipped her down lower into the water. “Do you like this?”

“I think the Lannisters invited us here only to make sport of us,” she said, but broke into a moan when he continued to thrust into her powerfully as small waves gently rolled over her.

“I’m close- are you close?” he asked her. His arms, which held her up, tightened around her.

“I’m a bit behind you, I’ll need some help to catch up,” she said. “Speak sweet words to me.”

“Your knight is going to fill you up, Daenerys, my Queen, my Khaleesi,” he growled low in his husky voice. “Right here in front of everyone, you’ll be leaking my seed between your legs, showing them all you’re mine-”

“I want to finish somewhere private,” she said quickly, she slipped off his cock and clutched him close to her.

He threw back his head and gnash his teeth to the heavens, biting back a frustrated scream.

“...Are you alright?” Daenarys asked him. His head snapped back to her, his expression controlled.

“I’m fine,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t worry about me.” He closed his eyes for a moment before beginning the trek to carry her back to shore. “Let’s go somewhere private to finish.”

* * *

They had both been excited over the idea of a sexy beach day, however finding a private place to make it sexy had proved challenging. Daenerys wasn’t normally so timid, but the Lannisters had an odd effect on her- Ser Jorah noticed she tended to be rather careful with her actions when they were present, as if she were under some sort of microscope.

After walking for a half hour and leaving the last person they saw behind them for five minutes Ser Jorah stopped.

“What about here?” Ser Jorah asked. “I think we’re far enough.”

“There’s a pathway just behind those reeds, anyone can see us if they walk this way,” Daenerys said.

“Everyone’s either at the bar or farther down the shore, no one has a reason to walk this way, my Queen,” He said, his patience strained and leaking into his voice. He had her hands in his, and he pulled her to him, holding her hands behind his back so she embraced him.

“I’m not going to be able to relax outside in the open, let’s find a room in the castle,” She insisted.

“I’m told we can’t, it’s been sealed off,” Ser Jorah said, kissing her neck and face. “Something about a faulty stealth program. We can finish here, it’ll be alright.”

“I refuse to be caught taken like an animal in the bushes,” she said backing away from him. “The Lannisters would never stop sniggering about it. I need more privacy than this.”

Her sudden departure pained him, and he had the look of a man struck with longing.

“Khaleesi, forgive me for saying so, but you don’t seem to be able to enjoy yourself,” Ser Jorah said calmly. “Perhaps it’d be best if we returned to the station where we’re guaranteed privacy... maybe we can have a pleasant lunch and spend the rest of the day in bed?”

“We can’t leave, not when I haven’t seen a tree, the ocean, or a plant in months,” Daenerys sighed. He opened his mouth to say something but instead drew a sigh.“I know it’s frustrating, and again I’m sorry,” she apologized as she slipped back into his arms. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you. We _will_ find a private place to have our romantic moment.”

He held her tightly to himself and looked down to see her perky ass, her pale cheeks not quite covered by her bikini bottom.

“You can wait, can’t you, my brave knight?” she said against his chest.

“Yes, Khaleesi,” He choked. “I am forever yours.”

It had been a long time since he had prayed for strength. 

* * *

It was a drowsy morning but beginning to liven up as more people appeared on the beach and gardens. The Cersei-sisters were getting hungry and had sent Jaime to the bar to grab refreshments. The bar was crowded, but he saw it was Bronn who was making R-26 work, much to everyone’s annoyance he kept changing his mind halfway through mixed drinks which caused the robot discard half-made cocktails into a sink to start anew.

“You’re wasting good alcohol,” Jaime told him.

“Paid for by the Governance, fuck ‘em,” Bronn said. 

“You’re also making everyone wait longer for their drink,” Jaime informed him.

“Fuck ‘em too,” Bronn remarked defiantly, but he wavered under Jaime’s look. “Alright, fine. Ty-bot, scrub that last order, give me a scotch on the rocks.”

“ _R-26_ ,” The robot reminded him, dumping something blue.

“Two mojitos and a cold beer,” Jaime ordered.

A light spread of meat, cheese and fruit was put on ice on an adjacent table near the bar. Jaime began to pick through the food, guessing what his sisters were in the mood for.

“Mind filling me in on what all that’s about?” Bronn asked him, motioning to the Cerseis.

“That wasn’t planned, Cersei insisted on bringing other-Cersei along,” Jaime said. He grabbed a piece of smoked salmon with his fingers and popped it in his mouth, then grabbed another strip of it to put it on a small plate to share.

“I ain’t gonna lie to yah, I always figured you were a bit of a freak for goin’ for your twin,” Bronn admitted. “but it’s not just weird now, you’re being greedy for your sister, greedy and weird.”

“I’m not greedy, it was truly an accident that she’s tagging along,” Jaime said. “Other-Cersei burst in on us when we first arrived,” he insisted at Bronn’s raised eyebrows. “That’s how we knew I accidentally disabled the stealth program.”

“Hm,” Bronn hummed. “You should fuck ‘em both,” he suggested. “Judging from our next conscription it’s gonna be a long time before you’ll get the chance to experiment, and who knows if your sister’s gonna be in a good enough mood to let another of her ‘tag along’.”

Jaime had meant to shut Bronn up, but he instead his friend's words stayed his intentions. He grabbed some grapes off a tray and frowned. 

“There’s no good place to do it,” Jaime reasoned, settling the fruit on the plate.

“You’re Jaime-fucking-Lannister, if you want to bang your sisters then go to the fuck-tent and do it,” Bronn said, glancing behind Jaime’s shoulder.

Jaime twisted to see where Bronn was looking. Earlier in the day he had R-26 set up a changing tent so that everyone could defrock from their uniforms and emerge in their bathing suits, and later when it got colder, their clubwear. In that moment the bright red tent had it’s flaps drawn, meaning it was occupied.

“That’s the changing tent,” Jaime informed Bronn, turning back. “Fuck-tent’, are you mad? That thing?”

“Am I the mad one? ‘Cause you’re the only one here calling that thing a ‘changing tent’,” Bronn enunciated.

“ _Your drink, sir_ ,” R-26 interrupted. Bronn didn’t thank the robot for the scotch he took out of it’s metal fingers.

“The ocean’s already been ruined for me, please don’t tell me the tent’s been sullied too,” Jaime groaned.

“Sullied by me and every other horny bastard lookin’ to blow off steam,” Bronn laughed. “Mark my words, that little room has had more fluids spilled in it than a public lavvy.”

“That’s revolting,” Jaime remarked. He peeked over his shoulder to look at the tent once more and spotted his brother slowly making his way to the bar. “Tyrion,” he called, “have you been in the tent yet?”

“The fuck-tent?” Tyrion said loudly. “No.”

Jaime leaned heavily on the bar and rubbed his forehead with his good hand, much to Bronn’s amusement.

“If I’m going to fuck someone I’m not going to hide myself away in that dark, stuffy thing,” Tyrion said joining them. He managed to climb onto a barstool and settled in without either of their help. “I much prefer the Mormont way, under the sun and in the ocean with the voyeurs and the Drowned God gawking at me,” he said. “Top-shelf bourbon, neat.”

“You mean Ser-Better-Than-You's prissy little princess let him tickle her cunt in public,” Bronn proclaimed. “I thought they were too dull for naughty thrills.”

“The Mother of Dragons and her bear knight, dull?” Jaime questioned. R-26 pushed Jaime’s drinks onto the bartop for him to receive.

“Have you ever talked to them?” Bronn scoffed. “Once you get past their fancy titles they have the personality of Ty-bot.”

“ _R-26_ ,” The robot corrected him.

“Oh, I don't think so, they’re a charming enough pair once you get to know them,” Tyrion said. "In fact, I hear they’re getting their rocks off all over King’s Landing in some kinky sex game.”

“This is too far,” Jaime snapped. “I want people to have fun, not be total degenerates,” he explained as Tyrion shot him an inquisitive look.

“Yeah, who would dare to do such degenerate, sexual things at your party?" Bronn said, winking at Jaime. 

“What do you care if people get wild? I thought that’s why you threw this thing, to get back at _the man_ ,” Tyrion said to his brother. He took his drink from R-26’s hands and plucked the ice out of it with his little fingers. “Ugh, I ordered this ‘neat’! Damn Tywin Lannis-bot, never giving me what I ask.”

“ **My identification is R-26. It is impossible for me to be genetically linked with your father, I am a machine** ,” The robot replied a lot more forceful than his previous protests. “ **I was not programmed by Tywin Lannister.** ”

“Gods that’s eerie, it even snaps at me like Father,” Tyrion said offhandedly.

“Is that hunk of metal supposed to be emoting?” Bronn asked, shooting R-26 a distrustful look. “He sounded angry.”

"I want to mildly annoy _the man_ , not royally piss him off. I could get court martialed if this party turns into one huge public orgy," Jaime said with a sigh. "And I didn’t plan on Father being here, I'm already on his bad side by making me and Cersei public. He wouldn't think twice about shutting things down if he doesn’t like what he sees- it could be just enough for him to drag us all to the station in cuffs if he catches Mormont mounting the Dragon Queen behind a palm-tree."

“So kick the kinky fuckers to the curb, it’s your party,” Bronn reasoned, tearing himself away from R-26.

“If they’re kicked they’ll retaliate by tattling to the Governance,” Jaime replied. “And then we’ll all be dragged into the station in cuffs as an example.”

"You can't stop people from being people," Tyrion said.

“No, but I can offer them the path of least resistance,” Jaime started thoughtfully. “Bronn, have a big tent set up, and make sure the two tents are properly labeled, one 'changing tent' and the other...you know.”

“Do I look like your silver plated servant? Tell your robot to do it, that’s what it’s for,” Bronn said. 

“Ty-bot’s manning the bar,” Jaime said.

“ **R-26!** ” The robot said loudly.

“Shit,” Bronn cursed, backing away from it. “Nevermind, I’ll fucking do it. I’ll be well out of range when that damn thing malfunctions and massacres you bossy-Lannisters for calling it the wrong name,” he said, creeped out at R-26’s expressionless face. “Why do you call it ‘Ty-bot’ anyway?”

“Well, besides our father adopting it as his most precious Lannister-child, it’s name a play off ‘Tywin-bot’,” Tyrion explained.

“It’s humorless,” Jaime started.

“It doesn’t have a heart,” Tyrion remarked.

“It never smiles,” Jaime recalled. “In fact, it has no concept of joy at all.”

“And it’s a tool,” Tyrion finished.

“I think I get it,” Bronn said, watching the robot nervously for outbursts. He downed his drink in a quick shot and set it on the bar. “One large fuck-tent comin’ right up.”

Bronn’s place at the bar wasn’t empty long. Just as soon as he left the crowd parted for a man in a jet-black helmet and light armor. Jaime felt for sure they were getting shut down when he spotted him wearing a station sanctioned security uniform, his security badge was bouncing the light off R-26 and shining onto a spot on the table-top and he was taller even then the robot before he sat between Jaime and Tyrion.

"Who the fuck decided to throw a fruity beach party at _King's Landing_?" Sandor Clegane’s gruff voice boomed through the helmet-mic. 

Jaime let out a sigh of relief as Clegane removed his helmet and slapped it on the bar-top.

“ _May I make you a drink?_ ” R-26 asked.

“No, I got it,” Clegane grunted. “Chromed cunt.”

He reached around the bar and grabbed the closest bottle to him which happened to be a nearly-full bottle of tequila. R-26 tilted its head curiously as Clegane bit the cork off and spat it on the ground before taking a long swig.

“You don’t miss the old homestead, Sandor?” Tyrion said, motioning around him.

"You mean the old graveyard? Half the guest list died here- including me,” Clegane snarled. “I can still see the skid marks."

"We’re in 300 AC, none of us have had our first death here yet," Jaime said.

"None except for your royal bastards," Clegane huffed. "Remind me which one of them bit the dust in, what’d you say, 300 AC?"

"Low blow, Sandor," Tyrion remarked.

A muscle in Jaime's jaw flexed and he put down his plate of food before taking a measured step towards Clegane, his expression tense as he fixed his unblinking gaze upon the bigger man.

"...Do we have a problem?" Jaime said a quiet, furious whisper.

Sandor frowned as he looked over his bottle at Jaime.

"Too much tequila makes me sentimental for the past," Clegane replied sarcastically. "But no, _I_ don’t have a problem, not with you, anyway. We all come from the same shithole world, after all, so that means we're one big, happy family, right? That's what those Governance-cocksuckers tell me."

"Fuck the Governance," Tyrion said, raising his glass.

"Fuck ‘em right up the arse," Clegane said, raising his bottle in a toast.

"Fuck the Governance," Jaime murmured. After a pause he concluded the threat between him and Clegane had waned and he visibly relaxed.

"If our Head of Security is down here, then who’s manning the station?” Tyrion asked. “There must be only cats and dogs up there by now.”

"Nah, no shortage of cowards who stayed,” Sandor stated. “I hate Westeros, but it’s getting worse up there then down here, if you can believe it. They act like they’ll starve to death if they’re not sucking goverment cock for one fuckin’ day.”

“Stannis Baratheon sent me a ten-minute lecture on why I shouldn’t propose he attend an unbidden holiday,” Jaime told them. “His lapdog Ser Davos is up there too, then there’s the nauseatingly proper Stark brood with A-Jon Snow-Garyen, or whatever the fuck he's calling himself these days. Lord Baelish stayed behind to scheme... I shudder to discover what we come back to-"

"-All rank-climbing, arse-kissing, limp-dicked sons-of-whores," Clegane scoffed.

“I’m still surprised Father isn’t amongst them,” Tyrion said. “He was the last person I’d think to join us.”

“Daddy Lannister’s here?” Clegane laughed. “You’re fucking with me.”

“He was one of the first to arrive,” Jaime replied. “He’s not a fool, he has no love for the Governance either.”

“Bullshit,” Clegane cursed. “Don’t you know your own fucking blood? The malicious prick doesn’t even breathe without the opportunity to further his best interests, and his interests align with whoever’s got the tightest grip on our nads- which is the Governance. If your father’s down here it’s for a reason and that reason is fucking someone over on _their_ orders.”

Tyrion and Jaime traded nervous glances.

“Nonsense, he’s human just like us...presumably,” Tyrion said. “He’s an elderly man, he understands the importance of balancing work and recreation.”

“Right, he’s asleep, take a look yourself. He’s just over…” Jaime started, scanning the beach. The chair where Tywin had been slumbering was empty, the towel was swaying in the breeze. Even the bribing glass of whiskey was there, untouched. “He must be swimming.”

“Suuuure,” Clegane said with a genuine smile. “I hope whoever he’s fuckin’ over has plenty of sunscreen up their bunghole, ‘cause I bet my second life they’re gonna get a reaming when he returns to the station after his little _swim_.”

“...I _hate_ drinking with you, Sandor,” Tyrion snapped, climbing down from the stool.

“Cheers,” Clegane said, lifting his tequila bottle with a smirk. 

“R-26, where’s Tywin Lannister?” Jaime asked.

“ _Tracking program disabled_ ,” the robot stated. “ _can I fix you another drink?_ ”

Sandor laughed heartily at the Lannister men’s worried expressions, it was hard to gauge just how fucked over they were about to become. 

* * *

  


“Do you see what I’m seeing?” Daenerys said, stepping in front of the tent. “Does that say, ‘fuck-tent’?” 

“Yes! Yes it does,” Jorah said. “Thank you, gods!” He praised the heavens. He took his hand in hers and began to walk towards it.

“Wait- stop,” she said, planting her feet. “You can’t be serious, you don’t find this all suspiciously on-the-nose?”

“... I say this respectfully, Khaleesi, I will always obey you, but I’m just a man,” he replied. “And we’ve been at this for over an hour now.”

“But there’s no such thing as a ‘fuck-tent’,” Daenerys said stubbornly. “it’s clearly a joke or some humiliation probably brewed up by the Lannisters.”

“You’re quite right, my Queen, I apologize for being so easily mislead- let’s retire to the changing tent,” Ser Jorah said quickly.

Before she could protest he scooped her up in his arms and pushed people out of his way.

“Oi, Mormont!”

Ser Jorah stopped in his tracks and turned to see Bronn several yards away with his hands on his hips.

“You better not be headed in there, that’s the old fuck-tent,” Bronn shouted at him. “Aye, that’s right, I know what you’re up to and all about your kinky sex game!”

“ _Kinky_ _sex game_? Jorah, what’s he talking about?” Daenerys whispered in his ear, mortified.

“If you so much as get a stiffy in there Jaime Lannister will have Ty-bot zap your balls off!” Bronn threatened.

“I wouldn’t pay him any mind, I believe he's drunk,” Ser Jorah said dismissively.

“Hey HEY!” Bronn continued to shout at him as they made off to ignore him. “I mean it, Mormont! If you’re gonna diddle the dragon then you do the diddlin’ in the designated area-” He then pointed the ‘fuck-tent’ with an accusatory finger. “Jaime Lannister had me set it up special, don’t be rude now!”

“...Khaleesi?” Ser Jorah said, licking his lips desperately.

“No Jorah,” she said, her face burning with embarrassment. “Did you hear what he said? _No_.”

Ser Jorah’s eyebrows knit in disappointment, but he relented, dropping her onto her feet carefully.

“We’ll find somewhere else,” Daenerys promised him.

“...Yes, Khaleesi,” Ser Jorah said.

“That’s right,” Bronn heckled them as they walked past the changing tent. When they even passed the ‘fuck-tent’ Bronn threw up his arms. “Oh, now you got some shame! Let’s all pretend you weren’t bolting over there, shall we? Just having a little stroll, eh? Fuck my hard work, right? Yeah, I shouldn’t have fuckin’ bothered!” 

Well...he had tried.

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, that’s chapter one.


End file.
